Recreation
by Zitronenbonbon
Summary: We all loved the hilarious drugs bust scene from A Study in Pink, of course, and we all know Holmes tends to take drugs from time to time. Even though John didn't believe so until he finds out on several occasions after the drugs bust.
1. Chapter 1

**Recreation**

**We all loved the hilarious drugs bust scene from A Study in Pink, of course, and we all know Holmes tends to take drugs from time to time. Even though John didn't believe so until he finds out on several occasions after the drugs bust.**

**Basically unrelated one-shots just playing the idea what Sherlock might be like when high or not. Rate for drug abuse obviously and some possibly upcoming smut in later chapters.**

**I have no drug experience at all so all my descriptions base on what I imagine people behave when on drugs and on what wikipedia can tell me about it.**

It didn't take long until John had to discover that Lestrade was in fact right about having a drugs bust in Sherlock's flat after all.

One morning he searched the kitchen cabinets for some sugar but was greeted by something totally different. Hidden in the sugar bowl that was pushed somewhere deep in one corner under the sink John found some twenty colourful pills.

"What the… Sherlock!" John cried and the taller man stuck his head around the corner. "John?" "Sherlock, what is that?" "Ecstasy" Sherlock answered lightly and walked over to the sofa to collapse across it.

"Sherlock, what is Ecstasy doing hidden in the sugar bowl underneath our sink?" "Lestrade was using the bathroom yesterday so I had to get them out of the cabinet" Sherlock answered without even opening his eyes.

This guy was mental, John thought. "No, I meant what is Ecstasy doing in our flat AT ALL, Sherlock? So Lestrade was right about the drugs bust?" John now was fuming.

"I tend to be bored."

"You t- … all right, too much, I'll need some air." John grabbed his coat "and I want these gone when I'm back. Do you understand?" With that he was out the door.

**So what do you think? I'm not quite sure if this is going to work. Just had some ideas in my head and needed to start somewhere.**

**Please review!**


	2. No use looking

**WOW! A lot of followers so I can keep up to your expectations.**

**Thanks to mustangwoman, HellsTheTwerd and XMillieX for reviews.**

**XMillieX: You are absolutely right. I'll do that in some later chapters. But I guess fun comes first.**

2. "No use looking..."

"John, have you…?"

"Yup." John was taking another gulp of his tea and didn't even bother to look up from his paper.

"But that's not fair, they are mine! You just can't go around and sneak them!" Sherlock was rocking on his heels and pulled a face.

"When you stamp your foot, Sherlock, I swear I have to laugh out loud." came John's unimpressed answer from behind the Sports pages.

Sherlock pulled another face and started pacing up and down the room.

"Don't think I'll give them back just because you are annoying. I'm used to that right now, you know?" John smirked to himself. Sherlock would be a pain in the ass in about five minutes at the latest but he had to go to work anyways.

"And there is no use setting fire to the airing cupboard, I got rid of the plant in there, too." And with that, John was out the door.

When John entered the living room Sherlock was half way up the fire place.

The doctor had to stifle a chuckle. This was so ridiculous...

"No use looking up there, Sherlock! I took the case. The heat from the fire is not good for the syringes anyways…"

Sherlock emerged from the fireplace spots of coom on his nose and forehead.

"Where is it?"

"Safe at the surgery."

"Dammit! It's you fault if I don't solve this case 'cause I can't concentrate!" Sherlock slammed the door behind him.

John just shook his head sadly.

**I know this is far too short. I guess I'll get more ideas where Sherlock goes seaching for drugs later on.**

**Maybe you have a nice place in mind?**

**Please review!**

**Oh, by the way: It might take some days till the next update since my laptop needs a new operation system in order to accept my new phone... bloody Apple...  
**


	3. Evening soother

**XMillieX: LOL now I see Sherlock as a kind of Bert from Mary Poppins. I bet he played the role at school musical when he was young ;-)**

3. Evening soother.

When John opened the front door he could hear muffled voices and giggling from Mrs Hudson's flat at the end of the landing. First he thought she was watching TV or had the radio on but when he put his foot on the first step he heard her talk.

"Oh, Sherlock, you are such a naughty boy. I can't just believe you really did…!" She broke off in hilarious laughter and was joined by Sherlock's unmistakeable chuckles.

'What the f…' John rolled his eyes and walked over to the closed door.

He had to knock quite a few times until Mrs Hudson opened it, a huge grin on her face.

"Oh hello John, come in, dear. Sherlock is in the living room just telling how he got out of prison in… where was it Sherlock?... never mind, come in." She turned on the spot and went back to the living room. Her steps light and easy not so much looking like she had 'a hip' as John noticed unaware he even was noticing.

With a sigh he closed the door and followed her. There was something fishy about it. Even though Sherlock was very fond of their landlady, he was not the kind for a nice evening sit in with the neighbours.

When he reached the room he could tell what it was. The air was slightly misty and the smell was unmistakeable.

"You gotta be kidding me… Sherlock! … you DO know that weed slows down the thinking, don't you? I can't believe…" "Oh don't be angry with him, John. He's just keeping me company during my evening soother."

Sherlock put on a puppy face and nodded innocently.

John let out a snort and turned for the door but before he could leave Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's legs. "Let go, Sherlock! What's wrong with you?"

The detective looked like a five year old whose lolly had been stolen.

"Let GO!"

"NO!"

The expression on Sherlock's face had changed to a very stubborn five year old's who is not willing to give the teddy back he had sneaked from his friend.

Reason was no way to get anywhere, John realised. Sherlock's grip was much stronger than he had expected from the lean man even in a sober state. Speaking of sober, John knew he had to leave since he started to feel slightly dizzy from the blue smoke in the room.

It was either sitting on the sofa or falling over from struggling against Sherlock's arms so John sighed and dropped to the sofa.

Sherlock lost his balance so that John landed on top of his flatmate and Mrs Hudson started giggling until tears streamed from her eyes.

Not long and they all were giggling.

The next day wouldn't be so funny was the last coherent thought that popped into John's mind before he took the joint from Mrs Hudson.

"Good medicine, wouldn't you say, doctor?" she grinned.

**Atlin Merrick: I'm not quite sure my brain is working at all, blue smoke suddenly came out of my computer… ;-)**

**next chapter might a bit darker, not sure yet. **

**And shall I get some other people in? Mycroft, Lestrade, Molly perhaps? Tell me  
**


	4. Overdose

**ok, as I said, this one is dark and sad. **

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4. Overdose

Outstretched on the black sofa lay the tall and slender frame of Sherlock Holmes. Dressed carelessly in PJ bottoms and a silky dressing gown. One sleeve rolled up just over the elbow. A small trail of blood was leaking from the spot where the syringe still stuck in the marble skin of the man that lay unconscious on the sofa. On the coffee table beside stood a small empty bottle.

That was the sight John was greeted by when he came home from work in the late afternoon. He had been aware that something like it could well happen but the sight was so shocking he stood frozen to the spot for what seemed an eternity.

When John came to he was at Sherlock's side in an instant. The man was hardly breezing and his skin was ghostly pale and quite cool due to the drop of blood pressure.

John didn't have to look at the bottle closely to know what had been in it. The small but unmistakeable crest of St. Barn's told the Doctor everything he had to know.

Why hadn't he seen this coming? Sherlock had been in a very foul mood over the past few days due to a lack of interesting cases and Mike had told him about missing morpheme doses from the hospital just the other day when they had met for lunch.

He should have searched more thoroughly in the morning, he was blaming himself, but he was so eager to meet Sarah for breakfast that he just took a quick look in the usual spots before he left the flat.

The ambulance took some time to arrive and the only thing John could do was to wrap the still unconscious man into a duvet to keep him warm. He had pulled the syringe from Sherlock's arm almost endearingly "Hang on Sherlock, the ambulance will be here any minute. Just stay with me, will you?"

As the paramedics strapped his friend to the barrow, John rubbed his hands over his face. Hopefully it was not too late. He couldn't stand loosing his friend, he realized. John had lost quite a few friends during the war and though it was always the worst thing he could have imagined he had never felt so lonely and desperate before.

"No, look… no I'm not family, no… but… I'm his flatmate, I found him…" desperate was no word for it anymore. This stupid b… of a nurse wouldn't tell him anything about Sherlock's state. He had been sitting in the waiting room for a little over three hours now. Every time a doctor came through the swing doors of the station he had raised his head hopefully but they always got to another waiting person to tell them about their family member.

He had tried everything but Mycroft was in a conference talk at Kyoto and Lestrade had the weekend off and went hiking with his wife. No one was there to get information out of the hospital personnel.

If Sherlock died in there without a soul by his side John would not know how to cope. How could he let his best friend take an overdose?

"Dr. Watson?" John woke with a start. "Are you Dr. Watson?" the young doctor in front of him asked. "Mr Holmes asked for you."

"He… asked… so he is alive?" "Yes, it seems you just found him just in time." John followed the doctor down the corridor. "But don't be long. He is very weak."

The bed stood right at the window. Regular beeping sounds came from the monitor. Sherlock's face had a very peaceful expression to it, John noted a little surprised. As he stepped up to the bed Sherlock seemed to be fast asleep again so he sat and just watched his friend breathing steadily.

"You scared me to death, Sherlock. Do this never ever again, you idiot." John sighed and pressed a gentle kiss on the other man's forehead. "Promise." Sherlock muttered ever so lightly John was not sure his friend had answered at all.

* * *

nothing much to say after that.

What do you think?

will have some serious argument or some more fun in the next chapter to get rid of the dark mood.


	5. It just doesn't work

**Just a short chapter in between scribbled down while meant to be accounting at work – since my laptop is still not up to date.**

**Next chapter will be connected to the one before this.**

* * *

The flat was a mess even compared to the state it was normally in. And the kitchen, don't even mention the kitchen. The experiments Sherlock had performed this time seemed to involve some cooking and apparently baking since there were some cake pans in the sink. Since when did they have cake pans? Probably Sherlock had nicked them from Mrs. Hudson. Various bowls and spoons were scattered all over the kitchen counters and the table. Empty packs of flour and sugar lay around and the bin was full of milk containers. John picked up an empty pack of another baking ingredient and had to bite back a giggle. Surely Sherlock knew that this would not work or did he?

Sherlock was nowhere to be seen but when John entered the living room, a muffled groan could be heard from the room next door. John rolled his eyes. Could Sherlock really be that stupid?

Apparently he could.

John opened the door to his flat mate's room carefully and was greeted by half eaten cakes and bowls of pudding. Outstretched on his bed lay a very green faced Sherlock.

John wasn't entirely sure if he should feel bad for his flat mate's more than obvious painfully state of over eating or if he should just burst out laughing.

He couldn't help it.

"Sherlock" he pressed out between giggles "you DO know that poppy seeds for cooking don't contain any opium doesn't matter how much you eat of them, don't you?"

"It's all your fault throwing away my bottles..." Sherlock griped in a petulant child's kind of voice.

John just shrugged and left the room. Bad stomach ache and probably bad digestion would be enough payment. No need to get angry. Getting angry with Sherlock was boring.

* * *

**Sorry guys, this one was just silly and far too short but it made my day writing it. So I guess you have to deal with it.**

**Next one will be more serious, promise!**


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